Dave's Muppet Collection 2.0

Unless you’re completely unfamiliar with me or my work (in which case, welcome to my blog and thank you so much for visiting!), I’m a huge Muppet fan. Well, that’s not exactly accurate, I’m a fan of Jim Henson, easily the most influential person to me as a creative professional and dreamer. That being said, I think “Muppet fan” is an acceptable blanket term for me and all my fellow fans, so we don’t take offense. Naturally, as a fan of anything, a collection of merchandise and memorabilia is one of the more defining traits every enthusiast of some form or another has.

Me and all around amazing human Ryan Dosier at The Museum of the Moving Image in Queens, NY for a tribute to Muppet Performer Jerry Nelson, October 27, 2012

Ten years ago (oh my God, TEN years ago?!) I made a nifty little video of my complete collection of Muppet things for my friend Ryan Dosier; then the founder and owner of The Muppet Mindset. I thought I’d cringe at it (more) today, but I’m still pretty proud of that video. It’s moot however, as I have almost none of it in my possession anymore. That’s not to say I don’t have any Muppet collectibles today, in fact I’d argue what I do have is more valuable, even if that value is more personal and sentimental.

Jerome Green, Lisa Bober, and I visit Puppet Kitchen’s Monitor Night with Paul McGinnis. A great time and experience with so many other fans! Photo by Michael Schupbach. December 6, 2016

First let me address what I don’t have and why. I’m willing to bet that most collectors tend to get pigeonholed by their friends and family in regards to their fandom. Not that loved ones define you by your specific likes—even if they are a domineering factor in life—but come birthdays and gift–giving holidays, things from said fandom are very easy go–to’s in that regard. In my aforementioned Muppet collection video, I’d guess that 60–80% of my collection from that time were given to me by very sweet and good intentioned people who love me. I’m very grateful for those things too, and they increased the size of my collection tremendously. The problem is displaying anything—especially a lot of things—can be difficult and impractical. The Muppets in particular are a brand that have had difficulty finding their footing over the last twenty years, so merchandise can be execrable or subpar at best. Yes, that paltry painted, bendable Gonzo dressed in an exercise unitard was very thoughtful, but my limited shelf space isn’t exactly where it should go. I want people to admire my collection, not turn my wall into a bargain basement curio shop. So most of that late 90s/early 21st century stuff (the bulk of my collection) went on eBay or to the Thrift Store. Thanks, I hate it!

J.C. Penniey in 1976. Photo from Birmingham’s Century Plaza

J.C. Penney at Monmouth Mall. Photo from Wikipedia Commons

One of the more prominent pieces I had were the Sesame Street mannequins formerly on display in J.C. Pennies back in the 70s and 80s. So a quick recap here as well; I was hired to work in the art department at the J.C. Pennies at Monmouth Mall in Eatontown, New Jersey back in the mid 90s. Early on we had to clean out the old display storage area which had these life size Sesame characters of Bert, Ernie, Cookie Monster, and Big Bird (Big Bird being smaller than life size as he was only moderately taller than the other three). I took them all home with me (they were destined for the trash!) which was quite the sight as heads and limbs stuck way out the windows and trunk of my car. Cookie Monster and Big Bird were almost immediately damaged from a water leak in my parent’s basement but Bert & Ernie were fine. I even began to restore them, but it became clear very quickly that this was a skill that needed to be left to a professional. They then went up in my parents attic where they waited patiently for 18 years. My parent’s house is (to this day) possessed by water demons, and moisture damage ruined pretty much everything in their attic also, including the iconic duo.

We had fun placing the old pals all over my parent’s house on Memorial Day weekend back in 2010 before they headed back up into the attic

I was heartbroken. My goal was to eventually put them on display at Christmastime for everyone to see, but now I felt like I was also being a really bad fan having let two more very rare treasures succumb to irreparable damage. I reached out to a professional to see if they even could be repaired, but not only would it be costly, the black mold that had developed inside their heads just wouldn’t be worth the trouble. I think about them often as now I finally own a home and think how neat it would be for my daughter and the rest of my neighborhood (which is flush with kids) to see and enjoy something so special from over 40 years ago.

Five years later cleaning out our parent’s attic, my siblings and I discovered extensive moisture damage, July 2015

The stuff I kept are all things deemed high quality merchandise. My Palisades figures, books and toys from the 70s and 80s, and a few plush Kermits as well will be cherished forever. I’ve even added to that with vintage stuff from online auctions and good finds elsewhere. I still have my prized possession, my original Fisher Price Kermit the Frog doll that I’ve owned since childhood, but I also found one still in the box that I got at San Diego Comic Con! Talk about precious! Occasionally I’ll pick up something smaller and kitschy but that’s exceptionally rare. The last big Muppet item I bought was ironically the nail in the coffin for collecting physical merchandise for me. The Diamond Select bust of Animal is gorgeous and looks so great on my office bookcase, but it was also expensive, and as soon as I opened it up, I realized getting it was more exciting than having it.

Getting a pristine Fisher Price Kermit at San Diego Comic Con, July 23, 2014

It’s cool, but that’s about it

It was at that moment I fully realized what I had been partially aware of for a few years: experiences are more valuable collectibles than material ones. Getting to be on set with and even commissioned by Muppet performers and production & crew members is way more satisfying and special. Now this could be a 21st century mindset in a day and age where we take pictures of everything for proof of the moment, but while there’s definitely credence to that, I think it’s a little more nuanced. The memories I have of my Muppet experiences are far more special because the photos just can’t encompass everything. For starters, they’re shared experiences. The people I was with make them memorable. Whether it was goofing off on the subway on the way to someplace or dinner afterwards; the full day from start to finish is precious. I don’t want to be pretentious here, and all of those experiences are not just dreams–come–true but also personal. That’s why I’m not littering this post with tons of pictures of me and Muppets. They are mine and they are so special.

On set with my best friends, Hollywood, CA, February 4, 2016

Heading to a puppetry class by Muppet performer Marty Robinson with new found friends, September 20, 2014. Photo by Mike Slawinski Jr.

It’s not just direct Muppet and Henson interactions either, but especially fan occasions that are really fulfilling. The Great Muppet Mural alone is a perfect example of this. Not only is my physical print arguably the nicest collectible I have, but getting to know and work with so many other fans was the penultimate venture. The Museum of The Moving Image in Queens is sort of a Muppet Fan Mecca where I’ve been able to spend so much time with so many incredible people. Yes, it’s always a chance to meet your heroes, but it’s the shared moments with people just as fanatic as you that really make those instances unforgettable.

Inside the Museum of The Moving Image for A Tribute to Jerry Nelson, October 27, 2012

Hanging with Austin Michael Costello (and Artie) at The Museum of the Moving Image for Brian Jay Jones’ biography on Jim Henson. October 1, 2013

All that being said, there’s one special anecdote I will share because the total experience is a sweet story. Back in 2013, Gene Barretta took me and my future brother–in–law to the set of Sesame Street for his son’s birthday. Again, truly an epic day that I have tons of pictures and video of but I’m not going to flaunt them. All I will say is that Gene gave me an adventure I am truly grateful for. Before we left, performer Ryan Dillon rushed over handing me one of Big Bird’s feathers that had fallen off (this happens a lot apparently) that he picked from the set floor. Wow, what a treasure! I held on to it tight and was relieved to have a place for it when we stopped at Midtown Comics on the way back home (another high note adding to the personal nature of the day) and placed it in the brown paper bag with the comics I bought.

With Gene Barretta, his son Ben, and Jerome Green just outside of Midtown Comics after a great day. December 4, 2013

The whole day was crammed with truly humongous moments so I was exhausted when I got home and crashed. The next day I was rushing around, straightening up our apartment and still riding on cloud nine. Just a few days later, I decided I wanted to find a way to display my Big Bird feather… now where did I put it? I looked everywhere and started to panic. Did it fall behind my dresser? Did a rogue breeze from an open window blow it away? Had a cat burglar stole it away in the night as I slept? I tried to think back. I had shown it repeatedly to my wife and everyone else that came by and then… then what? I would put it back in the brown paper bag with the comics. Yes! It’s still in the brown paper bag with my comics! Only my comics had since been removed and put in a long box and the bag, the bag had been thrown away! That was days ago! I ran out to our dumpster tearing open garbage bags furiously but that was futile because the waste management company had already emptied it. My Big Bird feather, the physical totem of that wonderful day was now lost and gone forever. Man was I crushed.

Over a year later for my birthday, my wife surprised me with a very special gift. She had pulled some strings and managed to get a hold of a brand new authentic Big Bird feather! The source confirmed it was just like the previous one—felled from a day of shooting and plucked from the floor of the set. The whole point of this being that the story of how I got the feather is just as remarkable to me as the feather itself. That’s not something a manufacturer can create in resin from a mold or sell on Amazon. True, there are still some collectibles I’m gunning for, but the potential for making more and new memories have been opened wide, and as a result, I just don’t think a Fozzie PEZ dispenser will hold up anymore.

My Big Bird feather and 4’ wide print of The Great Muppet Mural in my home office

So as cheesy as it sounds, it’s being able to exist in the world with the Muppets and other fans rather than collect whatever the Disney store deems marketable. And if I’m being really honest, I think I’ve always known that was the case. When I was a kid, my Muppet fandom was practically what defined me. In the late 90s, early 2000s when the internet became a more community driven vehicle, I was initially upset to learn that not only were there so many more Muppet fans, but that a lot of them rivaled my own fandom and I had a temporary identity crisis! Thanks in part to that breech, my fandom has been brought to a new level and my fellow fans and the niche corner we all exist in has not only introduced me to some really amazing people, but I’ve also formed genuine close friendships and been able to do actual work for the frog and some of his associates!

Hanging with Tough Pigs Ryan Roe & Joe Hennes and Unboxing cool stuff at the Jim Henson Company in Queens NY, with Karen Falk and Cheryl Henson. March 13, 2015.

I have a lot more Muppet stories that I’ll share in the future, so make sure you follow me on Instagram and Twitter and stay tuned to this blog!

Everything I Learned About Making A Documentary

Or The Making of The Making of The Great Muppet Mural

I aspire to be a good storyteller and have a relatively decent understanding of structure so I admit that initially I thought making a documentary—something I’d never done—would more or less hit all the familiar beats of other video essays and projects I’d done before. First, there’s the realization or desire to create something; inspiration is an old friend we all know well… And that’s about as far as I got before understanding this was a very different kind of project.

So here’s a quick rundown to catch everyone up. In January 2021, my very dear friend Jamie and I were looking to collaborate on a project with another couple talented artists (Kenny Durkin & Stuart Reeves) and settled on creating a massive mural featuring as many characters from the various worlds of the late Jim Henson as possible. This would act as the penultimate celebratory centerpiece for fan site ToughPigs.com. That’s as much as I’ll divulge on that as you can literally watch the entire story in the documentary that this article is referring to. To try and get as much mileage as possible out of the project and generate even more content for ToughPigs, it was suggested we try and show the process of how the mural was being made as we were already neck deep in everything and recognized how much effort was being put into it. We were all in a Zoom meeting and I instinctively started to record us. This fortuitously turned into a moment I used in the opening credits where co–owner and editor–in–chief Joe Hennes talks about sharing our story. Here’s an extended version of that clip:

My main focus at that time was obviously on the production of the mural itself, but I took notes here and there and saved various odds and ends I assumed would be useful in making a documentary, but didn’t really start to focus on anything seriously until we were nearly finished and ready to present the final art. I asked Joe to reach out with a couple additional requests for materials from the artists who contributed and was pleased with what was submitted afterwards. I then realized the story needed an actual narrative, so I began interviewing those closest to the project. This was primarily Jamie and Joe at first. We had tons of fun rehashing everything, but I was still really stuck on how to tell this story. I also realized that when a group of friends talk together, it’s off–the–cuff and spontaneous. A blast for us but it lacked the chronological qualities I knew was needed to tell an actual story. I had to have a narrator, but that meant I needed a script and I didn’t have a clue about how to get either.

I knew I couldn’t narrate it. My voice was already too prominent in the interviewing process and I wanted the tone of the underlying story to be consistent. I felt asking the audience to differentiate between “your old buddy Dave who’s cracking jokes and waxing poetic onscreen” and “omniscient voice of off–screen Dave” was undesirable. Shortly before The Great Muppet Mural was presented to the public however, I got an early Christmas gift from a man I’ve admired for awhile. Lucas Ross is exceptionally funny, super talented, and truly one of the most kind and beautifully spirited people I’ve ever met. Trust me, I am not saying this simply because he contributed to this project in a major way. I am genuinely in awe of this guy and I wish with all my heart the world had a few more just like him.

I was so stunned, I forgot how language works.

Lucas reached out wanting to be a part of anything related to the mural, and when I mentioned I needed a narrator, he jumped at the notion. Keep in mind, at this point in time, the only thing I really had was the idea for a documentary, a folder of recorded Zoom & Skype calls, and a couple of rough sketches. This would not be the last time serendipity intervened, but it was proof I needed to really start to dig in and make this thing. I figured I could get it done in about a month.

I was interviewing Joe in early September when I hit upon the idea of telling the story in three parts or acts like an actual stage play or movie. From there I was able to make a rough layout of the film and then direct my interview process better. I realize this seems like a no–brainer, but when you work on something and just move through everything because time is linear, you deal with things as they happen. Even with the mural finished it takes real introspection to compartmentalize things. The artists we worked with, the problems we dealt with, managing our team; these are all things that happened sporadically or all at once so categorizing them was a huge epiphany for me and that’s when things really started to fall into place.

It doesn’t look like much, but this unlocked everything for me.

Suddenly I not only knew what I wanted and needed, but how I wanted and needed it. First things first though, I had to manage the interviews I had done and continued to do in a way that could actually tell my story. As I mentioned before, our chats were conversational, so if we didn’t make the point the way I wanted to or there was an excess of “uhs” and “ums” or we beat around the bush too long or stuttered; that’s when I could clearly write out what needed to be said and have Lucas deliver it with full confidence and in an even cadence.

Turns out it’s a good time to present a documentary as seen in the genre’s rise in popularity creatively shown in this infographic by Bo McCready

Again, this is way easier said than done. I wanted to rely on telling our story firsthand as much as possible, and that meant going through 10 hours, 44 minutes, and 49 seconds of interviews and team meetings, 1 hour, 50 minutes, and 5 seconds of artist submitted clips, 50 minutes and 38 seconds of time lapse process videos, and approximately 5 hours of miscellaneous stuff like web screen recordings, stock footage, animation, vodcasts, and old Tough Pigs interviews. Added up, that’s nearly a full day of footage alone, and that doesn’t even include Lucas’ scratch tracks and onscreen footage! That arbitrary month long deadline was dead in the water.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned when it comes to cinematography of any kind, there is absolutely no such thing as too much B–roll. For those not–in–the–know, B–roll is secondary (usually background) footage that helps keep a film interesting and brings context. For example, if Jamie and I are talking about artist Peter Savieri's amazing work, rather than just having us two onscreen chatting him up, it would be visually more appealing (handsome as we may be) to show some of Peter’s work. That’s B–roll. I was provided with a lot of great stuff, but it never felt like it was enough. I had the brilliant idea to not use any photos of the Muppets or Jim Henson at all, instead choosing to showcase some of the contributing artists’ previous works. I asked everybody for everything and was not disappointed at all. Everyone came through and I’m so grateful I could pester them weeks and months later for stuff and they always delivered.

The insanely talented work of Peter Savieri

Credit Where Credit Is Due

The next big lesson I learned was simpatico with that same idea, and that is that I needed a lot of help. I had a very big and clear picture (eventually) of what I wanted this thing to be, but there was some stuff I just didn’t know how to do or how to do well. Again, I was very lucky to have friends to step in and dig me out of the hole I was in. Amanda Duncan facilitated almost all the music and also helped set the tone when I didn’t know how. Jerome Green hammered down the sound which fluctuated wildly, especially between the artists who took the time to record themselves. He also color corrected the film; a nightmare when none of us were in a studio with any sort of proper lighting and on a split screen more often than not as well! Recording websites is tedious and can be jerky, so James Smith thankfully took that burden from me as well.

I need to sing Lucas’ praise a bit more as well. Lacking in B–roll and understanding his comedic sensibilities plus the fact that he works in a television studio, I reworked the script to give him some onscreen time as well and encouraged him to do whatever he liked and have fun with it. He surprised me to no end when he sent me all of his onscreen dialog with himself placed within the background of the mural! Even he couldn’t have done all that by himself either and relied on his staff at NBC, KFOR-TV Oklahoma City. Man, he was just so perfect, and I really mean it when I say if Morgan Freeman himself approached me to be our narrative voice, I would still easily choose Lucas and I’m so grateful to everyone who stepped up and pitched in.

Along with those directly involved with helping to make the documentary, I am very fortunate to have such an incredibly strong support structure. I will never take 100% credit for anything, even something I worked on by myself. I firmly believe that I owe credit to the people that support me and have helped blossom my abilities and creative drive, even if they weren’t directly involved in the actual process. My dad and grandmother lovingly fostered my love for the Muppets and my mom encouraged my artistic endeavors throughout my life. In regards to this particular project, I was overwhelmed with the excitement and encouragement from my family, friends, and neighbors. People were genuinely excited that I was working on such a unique project.

My sister Morgan made her own version of the mural (with compositional help from Jerome) for my birthday. My mom cried happy tears when I showed her a rough cut and my dad has been proudly sharing it all over Facebook. My wife has always been my biggest fan and supporter and never sugarcoats anything. Not only was she extremely supportive of this project, she gave me honest and helpful feedback. Coincidentally, she was my target audience. I wanted to make something that someone like her—limited knowledge or appreciation of the fandom or creative process—could watch and even enjoy. I was overwhelmed when she reacted with so much pride over the film. Bottom line: any passion project with such a demanding workload requires mental and emotional support. It will make whatever you are doing less burdensome and even more worthwhile.

My sister Morgan—A multi–gold medalist gymnast for The Special Olympics, NJ—surprises me with a very special birthday gift.

Hurdles

There are a few things I wish I had thought to do or have known better. Promotion for one thing somehow became a last minute realization. This was really my baby and Tough Pigs was providing the platform to show it off. In other words, I wanted to help them any way I could as opposed to completing the thing, handing it over, and saying, “It’s your problem now!” That meant creating lots of promotional material. I’m a visual guy, so my go to were fun images and clips from the film. Creating those things, helping to schedule them, and work out the best way to send them out through social media was a huge job in and of itself. I think I began to understand on another level the reasoning behind these massive theatrical releases in regards to their advertising and why there are whole divisions within studios that spend millions upon millions of dollars. It would have definitely benefited us to reach out to someone with more understanding of online marketing as well.

I relied heavily on Tough Pigs pushing everything as they have the bigger audience, but they were also covering the Fraggle Rock revival series, and their attention was understandably split. Jamie helped pick up the slack, but the biggest surprise was Lucas himself who not only posted his own content but even plugged the documentary on his morning show on Central Oklahoma’s NBC affiliate, KFOR–TV!

The other problem I had with promotion is that I never felt that I was engaging properly. This goes hand in hand with being more social media savvy, but rather than promoting something, I started to feel like I was beating people over the head with, “COME LOOK AT THIS!” The people that wanted to see this were going to see it regardless. Trying to extend that to an audience who wasn’t aware felt out of reach. The benefit of this smaller world is communicating to a niche group, but ultimately that can prevent you from targeting a larger and more diverse group. I’d like to claim I was shadow banned but I don’t think that was the case, despite abusing #muppets over and over and over again.

Putting faces with the art was by far my favorite thing to do.

I certainly learned my way through Adobe Premier a lot better too. I was acceptable at best before. Now I’m much more hyper–aware of its tools and how to better organize everything. A documentary uses a lot more assets than a few video clips. My interest to learn After Effects and other video media programs has also peaked and fleshed out some unique resolutions for the new year. Finally, speaking towards that ridiculous one month deadline I foolishly gave myself, I learned time management on something like this can never ever be underestimated.

In the end, I can’t say that the way I went about crafting The Making of The Great Muppet Mural was the right or even the best way, but it sure was the most satisfying way. Every tiny thing I figured out or problem I solved felt like it was just meant to be. It became this giant jigsaw puzzle with millions of pieces that eventually all fit together and man am I so proud of it. I tried really hard to not let my ego get in the way, be respectful of everyone’s input, and above all else; tell an interesting story that people who have little to no knowledge of any of the subject matter would enjoy.

Please check out The Making of The Great Muppet Mural and as always, follow me on Instagram and Twitter!